"You're my friend, and I want you to remember that." He says, as we climb the branches of the big oak tree out back. Momma says we shouldn't climb it, says we might fall and get hurt. But N must know what he's doing; he's smart.

Flash forward a few months, and we're up on the swings down at the park. "You're my friend, and I want you to remember that." He jumps from the swing, landing in the sand box. I'm scared, but he becons me over, and the sand box doesn't look too far. The next thing I know, my sneakers hit dirty, brown sand. Momma said we weren't supposed to jump off the swings, but I knew N was right; he's always right.

Momma told us not to go out on the ice just yet. She says the pond hasn't frozen over enough, but N's already sliding around, a smile stretched from ear to ear. As he comes along the side of the ice, he makes his way over to me. He grabs both my hands, gliding me along with him. "You're my friend, and I want you to remember that. Always." I knew I could trust N; I can always trust him.

It's only been two years since I met N, but we're so close now, it's like we were never apart. Really, I'm just so happy. And more than anything, I hope N feels like I do. I hope and hope and hope, but it's hard to tell, when his smile is so far, when he looks so sad.

Although, he's always quiet these days. He says it's because of his dad, so why do I keep thinking it's because of me? Why do I feel like I'm causing him some kind of pain?

"It's so nice that you're here to keep me company, Touya."

His words linger in my head, the same way pictures in my story books do, even when I'm asleep. It's making me wonder if he's feeling that way today.

We're on the bathroom floor now, just sitting here together, his voice seems happy.

"Touya, you're such a terrible hider." He shakes his head at me, a smile stretching across his face. "The whole point of hide-and-seek is for you to hide, not to sit in plain sight."

He's only joking, or at least it looks like it, but I can tell he's getting a little annoyed.

N's rummaging through the cabinet under my bathroom sink, and I know I should say something. Momma always told me that things in there would harm me. So if they were going to hurt me, I had a feeling whatever these things were, would do the same to N.

"Momma says I'm not supposed to go in there, N. Please stay out! I don't want you getting hurt too..."

N turns to look at me, stopping his search. "But I'm thirtsy."

He's pouting at me, now. I hate it when he does that; I always let him get away with things with a face like that. He pulls out a bottle, and looks at it, turning it around and around.

"Are you sure you should be touching that stuff?" I don't know what it says; I can't read very well, yet.

"Of course. Why would your mom keep something in here that you can reach, if it was dangerous?"

I let it go this time. I'm only five, and N's already seven, so I guess he would know more than me. Plus, I know he can read better than me (alright, a lot better than me), so I trust him to open it up.

The top turns easily, and N removes it at a clicking noise. I guess that means it's new. I never see Momma using anything under here, so I'm not surprised.

It smells weird; Nothing like I've ever had around me before. It's different, and I don't feel like this is such a good idea. But before I say a word, N raises it to his lips, and takes a big gulp down, like how I do with Momma's hot chocolate in the winter. But I usually part with a smile.

N's not smiling.

"What's wrong?" I say, as N's face turns bitter.

His eyes are watering, and it almost looks like he's choking. I'm scared now, and I feel like panicing. Scratch that, I am panicing.

I grab his shoulders and shake him. But he won't respond. I yell and yell and yell, but still nothing. He's clutching his throat, and I know it's not because he's trying to choke himself. I look at his neck, but I don't see anything wrong. He's just as scared as I am, now. His eyes are still watering, but tears are streaming down his cheeks, making them puffy and a pinkish colour.

He's panicing too.

N's grasping for air, small chokes and coughs escape his lips as he flails his arms. He's back in the cabinet. It's filled with pill bottles and liquids, all of which he knocks over in his desperation.

He wants something to make him better, and so do I. N grabs different bottles, gulping down whatever's in them.

My first instinct is to call Momma, so that's where I run; But before I know it, there's a tug at my pant-leg. It's N. I tell him I have to go find her, tell him he might die otherwise.

But all he does is pull me down to where he is on the floor, and sigh. "I know."

/-/-/-/-/

I'm laying here with him now.

"Take everything I've ingested, and do the same." The green-haired boy looks at me, his eyes barely open.

I didn't want to listen, so the door is where I'm headed; again. Before I can get there, N's up on his feet, blocking my way. The door is being shut, and the lock makes a click. He's not going to let me leave.

So I peek around at everything strewn about on the floor, all the things being the reason he's hurt. I don't want to.

I won't.

Until he takes the liquid to my lips, and whispers before forcing it on me: "You're my friend, and I wanted you to remember that. Always."

/-/-/-/

Everythings gone now. Any jar that had been opened, any strange liquids lingering in the cupboards; gone. They're inside me and N now. I see his pain; I feel his pain.

"I did," came the barely audible whisper.

He turns to me, "Did what?"

We're laying on the tiled floors, and everything feels hard and cold. The only warmth I have is from N's hand on mine. And discomfort seems to be from the pain in the air. There's none inside me, because I feel so numb. Just in the air.

"I remembered what you said. And we are friends...But why did you want to kill me?"

I beg to hide my tears. To blink them away, is all I could have asked, because N's never seen me cry. But he's going to, now.

"Because."

I can't believe it. He's killing me, killing himself, and that's the only response he will give...

But he continues.

"I know of no friendship that lasts iforever/i. Actually, I don't think that's possible, since no one knows if 'forever' actually exsists. But if I die, you'll die with me. I'll make sure of it."

Forever... I think. What a weird word, now that I think about it. But maybe N's right. If there is no "forever", than we'll part with no distance between us, as I feel his arms placed around me.

And so, the pain in the air fades, but it's only because we're off to a better place.

Hopefully.